The Truth of all Demons
by STIG
Summary: Princess Bride xover. The Dread Pirate Roberts has moved to new waters, and Will Turner is looking for someone...
1. Fiendish Joe

Disclaimer:  Durn! I don't own them! (May this apply to any subsequent chapters, 'cause I'm lazy)

Notes: Well, here it is, actual fic, on this this site, No.1. Don't kill me for it; I get that enough without all this work. Firstly, there's a big, obvious time difference between The Princess Bride and Pirates of the Caribbean. Let us pretend it does NOT EXIST. This takes place in POTC time. Yeah. Otherwise, I sincerely hope you, whoever that may be right now, like (and review!) the story.

CHAPTER ONE

"Arrrrrgggggghhhh, I hope you didn't expect to get away that easy, mate, arrrrrrgggghhh, ahar, because ye should be a-knowin' who I am by now, matey laddo. I'm Joe the Fiendish, and I take no prisoners, ahar, so ye'd be best off runnin' away now, boyo, 'carse it be supper time!"

Joseph looked discreetly over at the blond man Captain Roberts had brought in as a judge, hoping for some sign that he was doing well. However, the unnamed master wore a practiced neutral expression that betrayed no hint of the thoughts lurking beneath. The man motioned with his head to continue, and Joe the Fiendish spat out another line as viciously as possible: "You yeller-bellied scoundrels ought ter be groveling at me feet, arrrggghh, because if I don't see ye asking fer mercy real soon like, grrrrrrrrrrrrrr, I'm gonna give you something to ask fer mercy about!"

'I can't believe Inigo thought this would be the best way to recruit a crew,' thought Westley, as he watched yet another child struggle his way through a sloppy string of pirate clichés and over-abused bestial grunts. 'How are we supposed to get real sailors out of this?'

The nervous boy peeked over his shoulder once again. Westley jerked his thumb towards the "prisoner," a real shrunken head on a pole, as kindly as he could. Joe pulled his lips back into a snarl and turned to face the victim. The head was Westley's idea. Half of the line outside on the ship had dissipated after the sixth gaudily dressed pirate-not-to-be ran out screaming.

The whole well-organized audition session was skewing horribly off course. Well, it was actually going exactly as planned, but Inigo had no idea how to hire a crew. Buttercup was on deck, mingling in the neatly roped off line, passing out compliments and hors-devours with equal generosity. And Inigo had the few real pirates Westley had found before the auditions up in the rigging, putting up brand new POLKA DOTTED sails. It was a bloody, deep red on black, but that couldn't make up for . . . polka dots. . .

Joe was finishing another brutal breath: "…And skallywaggers aboard this ship are all burnt at the plank, err, stake, or keelhauled, or hung by the thumbs until dead, which takes a while because you don't get to suffocate or anything, you have to, I mean, ter starve! Yes! Starve! Mrk mrk mrk mrk mrk! And, umm, you, ye, ye have to starve, and I… Can I stop yet sir, I didn't plan for it to be this long, and I don't have anything to say…"

"Oh, yeah, you can stop now." The fair haired but hard, sea roughened judge sat straighter. "Now, do you have any experience with sailing?"

"Well, when I came over from England to the Caribbean about five years ago, I helped on the deck, and I learned a bit how to work the rigging but my mother didn't let me actually help up there. And the second mate taught me to fence a little."

"Well, I'd say you've got it. When we get off, I'll train you a bit on your swordplay if you want. I'm first mate. Now, go on home, unless you haven't got one, in which case Buttercup on deck can get you a bunk in the crew's cabin."

Joe left, standing as straight as he could as the ship rose and fell, at anchor near a dock towards the outskirts of Tortuga. Westley had decided to move the Dread Pirate Roberts to new waters, as many of the pirates back in Florin were beginning to get suspicious of the strange changes in the famous pirate's crew. Also, Westley and Buttercup had decided it was safer for them and any children they may have to be well out of Prince Humperdink's reach.

Westley looked down at the list on his desk. That should be quite enough to crew the ship. Just a few more experienced sailors.

He got up, strode to the door of the cabin, and pushed it wide. "Right, we have only got enough room left for people who are serious about being pirates, and they have to know what they're doing. And no one else under sixteen!"

"Excuse me, _sir_, how old was that boy who just left?"

"Fifteen and a half. He's sailed before and has a grasp of swordplay. I somehow think most of you don't."

The girl, badly disguised in boy's clothing, harrumphed, "Harrumph!" and wobbled daintily down the gangplank, along with all but three men, who came up closer to the cabin as the deck cleared. There was a clean, short man, most likely a deserter from the British Navy, a rougher man who had a scar right across the bridge of his nose, and a much younger, humbly dressed one who stood in such a determined way that Westley was reminded of how he felt when he had stormed Humperdink's castle. He knew he would have looked like that, if he hadn't been unfortunate enough to be in control of his body only marginally more than a dead fish at the time. This young man trailed at the back of the group as Westley brought them into the cabin.

It turned out that both the older men had been at sea most of their lives, and the rough one, Jon Skaff, was a pirate of some years already. The other was called John Kitts, and after a swift interview Westley deemed him trustworthy. Both left as he finished with them.

The first mate opened his mouth, but before he could ask anything his questions were answered. "My name is Will Turner, I am one of the best swordsmen you are going to meet on this rock, and I need to find Jack Sparrow."

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Well, that wasn't too bad, now. Everyone still alive out there? Tell me how I'm doing. PLEASE. How else am I supposed to get better? Compliments are appreciated, but don't let that stop you. Anything you could flame me with could be put nicely and be called constructive criticism.


	2. Will, Westley and Roberts

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Sigh.

I have to thank everybody that reviewed. A LOT. So…

Immortalwizardpirateelf-fan – First reviewer! Wow! I wasn't even sure if anyone would notice this thing!

Blue Autumn Sky – Thank you sooo much. You have given me the will to go on. (Really!) I _have_ read a great Pirates/Princess crossover, called Ocean Soul, but it isn't on this site.

I am absolutely overjoyed that there are people out there that like this story. Really, really,really,really happy.

I want all of your autographs. YOU ARE MY HEROS!

Also, this is a little bit short because I've decided to at least start the next chapter before I give you this entire one, and because I've never written a swordfight (HINT HINT) before. It's not even a real one, and I can't get it done faster. AUUUGGGGGGHHHH! But it's coming along OK.

CHAPTER TWO

The first mate opened his mouth, but before he could ask anything his questions were answered. "My name is Will Turner, I am one of the best swordsmen you are going to meet on this rock, and I need to find Jack Sparrow."

Westley leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head casually, though his expression was thoughtful. "Why are you looking for Jack Sparrow? This ship hardly has a good chance to find anyone; we're new to these waters. And from what I've heard, he's harder to catch than Moby Dick. You are also hardly dressed as a sword master," he noted, as his gaze drifted across some soot on the brown vest.

"Technically I'm a blacksmith. And if you are new around here, Jack will probably find you."

"You didn't answer the question."

"That's none of your business."

"If you want to come aboard this ship, it is." Westley unfolded his arms and leant over the desk, as though it were no longer there. Will looked hard into his sea blue eyes. "You can trust me, Mr. Turner, with anything, and if you do I'll trust you. Why are you looking for Sparrow? He's a friend of yours."

Will was taken aback by his certainty. ". . . No. Yes. I just can't say now. It's… personal."

Westley thought for a moment, then to Will's relief, nodded his head. "Alright Turner, keep your secret. I hope you'll tell me eventually."

On the way out, Will paused in the doorway and spoke again. "Thank you…"

"Westley. First mate."

"Westley," Will looked up again at the sky, where red was streaking into the ever-darkening blue. "Someone should change those sails."

* * *

At dawn the next day, every man that had slept on board was awoken by Buttercup and set on putting the _Revenge_ in order to sail. The rest of the crew arrived over the course of the morning. Barrels of supplies were hauled up, coils of rope were wound for storage, extra, less gaudily dyed canvas was folded and loaded into the hold. Buttercup was looking through her dresses one more time, finally deciding to sell all but two, and dress in men's clothing for any but the more formal occasions. Fezzik was helping Buttercup.

When Will arrived, not long after daybreak, he was greeted by Westley. "If you don't have anything better to do, how would you like to teach the beginners how to use a sword? Roberts and I could use some help."

Will was at first taken aback. "Roberts? I wouldn't think such a famous pirate would do things like that. That seems to be more a job for, well… I think, a mate—you. But, I'd be honored to help."

"Roberts has been doing this – being a pirate – for some time. We decided long ago to learn as much about a new crew as possible, and he is the greatest swordsman I have ever met." Westley paused and nodded at 'Joe the Fiendish' as he rolled a barrel across their path. "We've fought against each other at times."

They swerved through the minor chaos on deck, heading in the direction of a slender, dark figure, with a group of young men. A little over half of the pirates here had swords, and were holding them awkwardly as the apparently left-handed captain slowly brought his own, beautiful weapon through a series of simple strokes and parries with another pirate, Skaffs.

"Roberts! Here, this is Will Turner; he says he would like to help with these." Westley motioned towards the group.

Roberts replied in an easily recognizable but understandable Spanish accent, "'Kay, let's see what you can do, Turner."

Will had brought three swords on board today, two across his back and one neatly positioned on his leather belt. This last slid from its oiled sheath like water. Westley nodded appreciatively. This was a weapon to rival the six-fingered sword made by Domingo Montoya, despite its appearance. The blade swept gracefully to the tip, keeping a perfectly straight edge, and shone like a mirror in the early sun.

Roberts said nothing, and raised his own steel.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

I will do my best – or close to it – to update every week from now on, but I've promised myself and now everyone else out there to finish this story, no matter what. If you are ever bugged by me never updating, then I'd appreciate it if you e-mailed me or at least reviewed. Really, sometimes I just need a push.


	3. The Sea and the Sky

Disclaimer: Just the usual. Nothing special.

Reviews! How I love them.

Kelsey Estel – Boy are you smart. Slow down, we'll get there eventually. You're right about Westley and Will. Willing to risk anything for their true love, somewhat half-hearted pirates, extremely cute…

immortalwizardpirateelf-fan – Thanks for your suggestions. As you will find very soon, I didn't really follow up, but I had fun. It isn't a 'real' duel, anyway, so I will probably get more technical in the more important ones. Glad you've come back, Mr./Ms. Regular Reader.

CHAPTER THREE

"'Kay, let's see what you can do, Turner."

Will had brought three swords on board today, two across his back and one neatly positioned on his leather belt. This last slid from its oiled sheath like water. Westley nodded appreciatively. This was a weapon to rival the six-fingered sword made by Domingo Montoya, despite its simple appearance. The blade swept gracefully to the tip, keeping a perfectly straight edge, and shone like a mirror in the early sun.

Roberts said nothing, and raised his own steel.

Will held his blade like it was as familiar and natural to him as the sky over his head or the sun that warmed the Caribbean. _Perhaps that was the _problem, Roberts thought, _you can't know the sun and the sky personally. _He shifted to a defensive position, and let his opponent strike first.

Will stepped to his right, crossing his left foot in front of himself, and swept his blade in an easy motion that the dark pirate casually blocked, and returned with a swift thrust. Will accepted the challenge, stepping lightly and playing up the pace further.

Roberts let his sword almost guide itself, until suddenly he tickled his weapon over Will's ribs. A thin line of crimson made itself visible in the morning light, but the blacksmith didn't let it faze him. He began working his blade against the pirate's, faster, faster, and sweat gradually began to find its way to his brow. Roberts lowered his eyes from Will's to watch his sword.

"Loosen your wrist a bit. That's right. Now try to hit me."

Will had done this before. He had crossed blades with stranger, a pirate who had talked to him like this, and somehow it made him feel more acquainted to this… legend. That duel had been deadly earnest at first, but at the end of it he probably couldn't have killed Jack Sparrow.

He hadn't even known his name yet.

Will waited a little longer, and as he realized it was likely that none of his attacks would get close to harming this master, he began hitting like he would in a real battle. Sparks flew from the keen swords, and Roberts found himself further impressed. With some time, this boy could make a master; perhaps, even a wizard. He attempted a swipe at Will's legs, which he jumped, and brought his blade over his head with his right hand on the flat of it to block a blow from Will as he landed. Deciding the test had been long enough, he flicked Will's sword out of his hand, where it turned through the air, gleaming, until Westley caught it.

Roberts smiled. "Turner, you're very good. Who taught you?"

"Nobody. I taught myself. Ever since I was a boy I wanted to… I practiced every day of my life so I could get rid of every pirate there was. It's a strange reason, considering what I've done in my life…"

"Like this?" offered Westley.

"Exactly. And the thing with Sparrow. I'll tell you about him someday."

By now most of the crew, finished with their tasks, had been drawn, first to the duel, and then to the odd conversation. Roberts looked around, and asked Westley, "Are we ready to sail, then?"

"Yes. We can set off tomorrow at high tide."

END OF CHAPTER THREE


	4. Will Arives

Disclaimer: Whatever.

Reviews:

erosgirl – for telling me straight out you like it, thanks. I'm always happy to hear that!

Kelsey Estel – Thank you! I'm glad you are still reading this. I'm also very glad you liked the fight. It took a while, but I think I definitely am getting the hang of it.

I am not really happy with the first part of this chapter, but I needed it and it seemed good enough. OK, I'm holding my breath for you guys….

CHAPTER FOUR

Roberts looked around, and asked Westley, "We ready to sail?"

"Yes. We can set off tomorrow at high tide."

Roberts and his close advisor Westley retired to the captain's cabin, winding their way from their position near the bow, through the trundle of the retiring crew. The thick door was well-oiled and soundproofed, for keeping secrets in, and prying eyes and ears out. Inside, no sound could be heard but the muffled groan of the ship and the voices of the current occupants.

"Well, the crew seems alright, and the ship is in great repair considering we just came across the Atlantic. What do you think, _Roberts?"_

"Hah! I'm having much too much fun for this to be allowed."

"It's not, you know. Even by the Pirate's Code. You're impersonating a well-admired marauder and that can have consequences. Granted, you have me to vouch for you if we run into trouble with some hotshot captain, but I'm in the same fix."

Both men stood for a time in thought, watching dim flames sway back and forth, perched on tall candles held in golden candlesticks placed on rich mahogany chests, all stolen from dead crews and loaded in style to the heart of the _Revenge._

"It's a hard life, being a pirate. But it's almost worth it. There's the money and the jewels, but that isn't why the best pirates, the best _men_ do it."

Inigo watched. He knew from his short experience that Westley was a great man, and despite the number of men he had killed, worth listening to.

"It's the sea. You have a ship, maybe you built it yourself, or maybe, like this one, it's got a legacy of its own, and you're just part of it. You get to be important, because you're one of those few people that can forget themselves, that they even exist, and _feel_ the ocean.

"And then you come home again, you pull yourself back to land and have your booze and your women, if you are like most. But a good pirate wouldn't care, really, for that. He lives because he has the sea; he has a real lover to return to. I used to feel like that, Inigo. Almost. I never forgot what I… I had to go back someday. Now I have Buttercup, and no man who ever lived could love another more. I _love _her. True love. It's the best thing in the world. Even better than a good MLT… Where'd that come from?"

"Where'd you hear that, Westley?"

"I don't know. I don't."

"That's what Miracle Max said when we asked him to bring you back to life."

"But wasn't I dead?" Westley asked, confused.

"He said you were _mostly _dead. And you did say you needed to come back for true love."

"I don't think I could say anything. Could I?"

Inigo sighed. "It's hard to explain. I thought you were dead too, but Max pumped you up with air and you said, 'Trooo Luuv.' I don't really know."

"Ah ha."

"Westley?"

"Yes?"

"That boy Will Turner… Is very good. Very good. He could make a wizard someday, I think."

"I think you're right, Inigo. We'll have to get to know him."

* * *

The next day, Will arrived bright and early to see the Dread Pirate himself climbing nimbly through the rigging. After pulling himself into the crow's nest, Roberts made a show of peering around through a golden spyglass, and called down to the deck, "I don't see anyone yet… No… It's… Turner! And behind him… An R.O.U.S., Westley! And another… and another… Ooh, Westley, we're in trouble, HUMPERDINK IS HERE!"

"Don't joke about that here. Hello, Turner. I hope you had a good night."

Roberts dropped from a rope and strode over to the pirates. "Oh, we're a-going sailing, sailing to the ocean's end, to fight and plunder till we die, die, die. I love all these songs they have here, Will, do you know any?"

"No." He was lying. Jack had taught it to him on the Dauntless, on the trek back to Port Royal.

"_YO HO! Yes Will, ye got it. And don't forget, I hate it when I teach people stuff an' they forget. And especially when I won't be around to tell 'em again. Savvy?"_

Jack had managed to sneak a few bottles of rum he found in the Isle de Muerta on board. But that was Jack.

"Roberts, you're drunk aren't you?"

Roberts looked around for a second, then said, "Oh! Me? No! I'm not drunk. I'll just go 'nd get some more brandy."

Will raised an eyebrow and watched him sway over to the ship's kitchen. "Does he always do this before a voyage?"

Westley turned his gaze to Will. "Not always. He just has a strange way of doing some things."

Buttercup lurched up the stairs from the galley, desperately attempting to hold on to a large cauldron of soup, along with bread, and a pitcher of milk. She gripped a ladle and bread knife between her teeth, and several pewter bowels dangled from the belt of her breeches. Westley leapt to her assistance, and soon the two of them had brought breakfast to the center of the deck. Westley turned back to the galley, calling out, "I'm going to get that table we have for cooking. Will you two be alright?" and left, leaving Will and Buttercup behind.

END OF CHAPTER FOUR


	5. One Month

Disclaimer: I don't own them… But just you wait, I will…

Reviews:

Kelsey Estel – I think you're right about the chapters, and I hope these coming up will be more satisfying for everyone. Long chapters make people happy. However, this one isn't as long as I was hoping it would be, because I had to work out exactly what was going to happen next, when we'll see Sparrow, etc. Plots are good. And I was on vacation for a bit, but that's not a very good excuse. So, if you will take this chapter as a marker of my kink-removal, and expect another soon…

erosgirl – Yeah, sure. You say the first part was _odd?_ I agree. But it brings 'insight' to the story. That's why it's there. I think.

I'm glad you feel I kept Jack in character. It wasn't hard. He's Jack. Good thing all the same. I like Jack. Hate to do something bad to him.

I am just going to do a bit of adjusting; each part of chapter two is going to be its own chapter, to make everything simpler.

Finally, a bit more about chapter lengths. This chapter is about the same length as the rest of them so far; with vacation and the new fic I'm working on right now (which WILL NOT interfere with this one, if I can help it) I haven't been working as hard as I wanted to on making this one longer. I'm either going to just have longer chapters, or update more often. I am sorry about the lack-of-actual-stuff-happening here, but I now have a solid plot going and a pretty good chapter here (if I do say so myself), which is pretty good with my current time crunch (if I do say so myself). Expect more. I'll get it to you!

CHAPTER FIVE

A month deep in the voyage, Will stood at the bow of the ship, as usual, awaiting the dawn. Below him the polished figurehead of a devil holding an hourglass and sword imposed its will to the empty ocean; at the pinnacle of both masts the same motif was blackened into a blood red background. The _Revenge_ was not a large ship, but it was fast, well-armed, and (as according to the usual strategy employed by the Dread Pirate Roberts) intimidating. Ebony skeletons were carved into every wooden surface. And once out at sea, the strange polka dot sails were actually quite intimidating.

Will gazed across the water. There had been two battles with small vessels, both of which he had participated in, and both of which had yielded little profit. Every man of each crew was dead – or a fresh addition to the crew. As most of them were snoring below decks, Will felt it safe to assume that the Dread Pirate Roberts was not as malicious as he tried to convince the world he was. _He isn't black hearted at all_, Will thought, _he loves his men, and he's polite, and doesn't kill people if he can help it. Or does kill them, quickly, if they are wounded and will die anyway. I don't think he would ever actually kill a man in cold blood… without good reason, anyway._

The eastern horizon was gaining a slight radiance, chasing away the last few stars from the sky. Will turned to face it fully, resting an elbow on the rail, and drawing back one boot to rest with the other.

The bloody sails rustled. The gruesome dark ship was peaceful, rocking slowly as the waves lapped against it. This was the quietest moment of the day, when nothing was visible but the pale glow in the east, and sometimes pinkeye clouds settled on the sky.

All at once, the horizon ignited, a yellow flame shooting up and in all directions to light the day. There was a purple cast to the sky yet.

"SHIP AHOY!" Will turned sharply to stare up to the crow's nest. Joe the Fiendish, that was the only man aboard with such an… enthusiastic voice. Will pivoted again to scan the perfect picture of a sunrise, but finding nothing he shouted up, "Where away?"

A few scuffling sounds seemed to indicate that Joe had nearly fallen out of his perch. "Who's that?"

"Turner."

"Oh! Will, I don't think you can see from down there. Climb up!"

He pulled himself up the ropes to the lookout point, and followed Joe's finger with his eyes. There was a ship, barely perceptible from the high perch without a spyglass.

"I know that ship."

* * *

As Joe ran to fetch the captain, Will busied himself with thoughts of why the _Dauntless_ was even out of Port Royal. After Governor Swann had died, god bless, the new official had not allowed even the King's Navy to leave the port, except on his personal business, which was never elucidated.

But what was important now was to ready the guns and the small number of oar ports in the hull; maneuverability and speed would be essential if the encounter proved unfriendly. Most of the crew was now conscious and hard at work.

The _Dauntless _approached silently, slowly, but with the sails of the swift _Revenge _filled and the helm turned, the ships advanced with renewed speed.

Will was struck with a thought, and ran below decks to find the captain. He assisted a group of pirates in their task of positioning the heavy cannons, but as Roberts was not to be seen he quickly returned to the top deck.

Now Will could see him, sequestered with Westley at the tiller. He ran up the wooden slats that served admirably as stairs, and heaved, "Captain, I know that ship. If the commodore of the fleet is on board, and I think he is, he's the only one who could have gotten that ship out of port, I may be able to negotiate with him."

"Negotiate?" Roberts asked. "How do you know that ship, Turner?"

"It is the flagship of the royal fleet at Port Royal. I used to live there, the Commodore was in love with my fiancé, we had adventures on that ship. It's a long story, but I think he may be looking for me."

Roberts shook his head. "You have strange friends for a pirate, Will. But if you think it's best."

* * *

The white flag was waving at the pirate ship's masthead. Commodore Norrington didn't trust them to be peaceful; he ordered the crew to keep their arms at the ready. Norrington didn't trust pirates. As he always said, "Violent and dissolute creatures, the lot of them." He didn't trust _any_ pirates, and only liked two. But they didn't count, of course. One just about stole the love of Elizabeth from him, and the other… The other, Norrington didn't really like at all. Perhaps he didn't hate him…

In any case, if Turner wasn't on that ship, they wouldn't even be able to defeat the brigands in battle. Governor Dorgan gave unusual orders, but threatened that if the navy brought in so much as one pirate to be hanged, he would hang the man responsible himself. Every man in the fleet knew he was a little insane; his rages had already led to the 'lawful' execution of four men.

No providence of England should have to accept leadership like that. That was tyranny.

The ships grew closer.

END OF CHAPTER FIVE

YAY CHEESY CLIFFHANGER


	6. Aboard the Dauntless

Disclaimer: Don't…. Own…..

I do apologize at this chapter's oh-so-fashionable lateness. Computer troubles, couldn't get it downloaded, gack. But is is almost a page longer than the usual, so be happy.

I noticed that there were no breaks (for time lapses, location changes, you know?) on all the previous chapters, so I'm fixing that.

My Great Reviewer(s):

Kelsey Estel: Sorry if the whole "not being able to defeat them in battle" thing was unclear. You're right though; I meant that the _Dauntless_ can't attack whether Will is there or not; if Will is there, they don't have a reason to attack, because Norrington is looking for him, and doesn't want to kill him (of course), and Governor Dorgan doesn't want the navy to attack any pirates, because (THIS PHRASE HAS BEEN REMOVED TO PROTECT THE PLOT).

Your comment on Elizabeth shall be answered _very_ soon, don't worry.

P.S.: I am really glad you like the imagery. You can almost see the sunrise and that kind of stuff? That's great! Thank you.

erosgirl: Check Chapter Five. "Where away?" has been added! Way awesome, that is cool, hope you aren't insulted because it wasn't there in the first place, etc. I am the author, and I resent that my previous decision to say, "Where?" (LAMO) MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH GASP HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Glad you like the devil figurehead, I liked it too (he he).

EVERYBODY! Take a look at my new Indiana Jones fic, Indiana Jones and the Union of Occupations. OR ELSE, kay?

CHAPTER SIX

The _Revenge_ and the_ Dauntless_ were well within firing range, and the navy men were on the ball, alert for any suspicious movement and any sign of hostility from the pirates on the dark ship. Norrington searched the deck with his spyglass; the pirates were standing in lines, after dropping their pistols and sabers in a pile on the deck. The gun ports were closed. It certainly didn't seem as though the pirates intended to attack – it almost appeared that they were surrendering. Norrington pondered, and dismissed the idea. No pirate he had heard of would give up, lay down their arms without even being asked to. But that was exactly what the men aboard the polka-dotted ship were doing. He lifted the spyglass to his eye again.

A fair haired man in a red greatcoat, most likely the captain, was berating a scarred man who refused to release his weapons. He motioned once to the pile; the other gripped the hilt of his sword and scowled. The first paused, then nodded towards his left and moved on to speak to his crew. Following his gesture, Norrington saw that he indicated a ladder from the ship to a jollyboat, down which the scar faced pirate swung after finally laying his arms with the rest of the crew's. Norrington had to smile. This captain was apparently another of those 'pirate and a good man' types Turner had mentioned from time to time in Port Royal. He had offered an incentive to the crewman, being a member of the group to negotiate with the _Dauntless,_ instead of a punishment, for not giving up his weapons.

The fair captain now joined the scarred man and three others in the small boat. But they didn't begin to row just yet. Norrington lowered the telescope again to give himself a wide view of the deck.

The door to the captain's cabin was shoved open after a moment of waiting. He was clothed in black, from square toed black boots, to a gold trimmed black overcoat, and even wore a mask and bandana from under which his dark ripples of hair burst. He ignored his crew (for_ this_ certainly must be the captain) on his way to the jollyboat. The man in the red greatcoat rowed with three of the crewmen.

Norrington hesitated only a moment before ordering a rope ladder dropped.

The scar faced man came up first, followed by the red pirate and a bubbly boy who didn't look older than fourteen or fifteen. Norrington started when Will Turner boarded, but returned the smile he received from him.

"I've got a message for you, Will. A messenger, actually."

"Wait until Roberts is done with you." Will grinned again. "He has to say something first. It's just his job." He moved away from the side of the ship to allow Roberts to board.

Roberts was even more impressive up close. He was thin, and held himself with the grace and strength of a master swordsman. He certainly wore a sword befitting one; Norrington wondered who he could have stolen it from. He scanned Norrington and his crew swiftly before asking, "Is there somewhere private that we could talk?"

"My cabin has room," Norrington suggested. Roberts nodded, and strode after the commodore. At the door, he stopped Fiendish Joe and John Skaff, told them to watch the door, and continued inside.

* * *

Skaff scowled at the crew. "What're you starin' for?"

"I don't blame them. I stare sometimes too!"

Skaff scowled at Joe.

* * *

Inside the cabin, Norrington began to explain that he was only looking for Will Turner, but was interrupted by Westley.

"Introductions first. I thought the Royal Navy was supposed to be polite to all comers."

"If you insist. I'm Commodore Norrington, of the fleet at Port Royal. You're aboard the _Dauntless._"

Roberts now introduced himself. "I am the Dread Pirate Roberts." Will was smiling again. Roberts noticed and smirked a bit himself. "Captain of the pirate ship _Revenge,_ and I take no prisoners. This is Westley, my first mate. Will Turner you know, apparently. Those two out there are John Skaff and Joe Gist, better known as Joe the Fiendish." Roberts' controlled expression burst into a fine grin. "And I demand to know what you are doing in my waters, _Commodore._" He finished theatrically.

Norrington found himself dropping his military demeanor. "If you insist. As I was saying, I have a woman aboard this ship that wants to see you, Will, so badly, she threatened to destroy my home where you so trustingly left her and commandeer a ship herself if I didn't take her to you."

"How long did you manage to resist my fiancé?"

"Two weeks."

"You must have been looking for over a month then. I was three weeks searching for a pirate ship to take me in. The Dread Pirate Roberts here had Westley holding auditions."

"Pirate auditions? But not now. Elizabeth has been waiting long enough, I believe." Norrington stood from behind his mapping table and went to the door. Opening it, he called for Miss Swann to be shown to the cabin immediately.

An instant later, apparently having heard Norrington's order, Elizabeth had stormed into the room and was howling at Will, "How could you have just left me at Port Royal! You know full well that I can take care of myself! What do you expect me to do, sit about and sew while you're searching the high seas for that curse Jack Sparrow! We have equal reason to find him, and you left me there! Next time you have a quest to complete, don't tell_ me!"_

"Elizabeth, you could have gotten hurt! I couldn't have lived knowing that. I love you."

"If you really love me you could have told me that! I can take care of myself, and if you don't think I can you should at least know that you are certainly capable of taking care of me. I know you are!"

"I… Alright Elizabeth. I won't do this ever again. I won't apologize, though. You could have gotten hurt and you know it."

"I'd have less chance of getting hurt traveling with you than by myself."

"…. Fine. I'm sorry." Will lowered his gaze to avoid the sight of tears trickling down Elizabeth's face.

"Don't you ever leave me again."

Everyone was respectfully silent for a few minutes. It was Roberts who broke the hush.

"Now I suppose all you have to do is decide whether to continue your search with Norrington, or on the _Revenge._"

Norrington now looked up. "I'm afraid I must return to Port Royal. I've been overdue on my arrival for some time. You know Dorgan."

Will nodded grimly. "Then I, and Elizabeth, have no choice but to remain with you, Roberts." He faced Elizabeth. "If all is well by you. You deserve to decide if we continue to look for Sparrow anyway."

Elizabeth wiped her eyes quickly. "Why do you think I came all this way, you pirate!"

_

* * *

In the captain's cabin of the Revenge…_

"You are getting better at acting, Inigo. Still, I think you agreed to let them come with us a little too easily."

Inigo ceased to polish his sword, and looked up at his first mate. "Are you saying I should have denied them their only chance of finding this Sparrow?"

"No, it's just that you seemed a bit too… helpful. Kind, I don't know."

"Even the Dread Pirate Roberts can be kind sometimes."

Now Westley looked up.

Inigo continued, "The world is a hard place – pirates are hard – but no one is completely evil. Maybe not even Humperdink. Maybe Count Rugen was in love once, maybe he didn't always kill."

Both men were silent the rest of the night.

END OF CHAPTER SIX


	7. The Merchant

Disclaimer: You know the drill, I know it, can't we all just get along?

In Response to Review:

Kelsey Estel – Jack as Gov. Dorgan? Scary thought. Fezzik really hasn't gotten much at all, has he? Don't worry; he and Buttercup will have much more to do with Elizabeth finally here and everything.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Elizabeth liked the crew, liked the captain, liked the mate, and liked being off of the navy ship. She had been treated well, but most of the two months on the _Dauntless_ had been inside her cabin. Now, back on a real ship, a pirate ship, Elizabeth was looking forward to a good deal more freedom. That was the first thing she told Will.

"I'm not going to let you convince me to stay shut away through this voyage. I'm going to help sail this ship, and if we get in any battles I intend to fight."

Will glanced up at her from his position, seated on the rail on the deck, where he was polishing his sword. "What do you think I taught you swordplay for?"

They were interrupted by the clanging sound of the dinner bell. Both looked over to see Buttercup balancing plates over to the table that was always left on deck for the meal the crew had together every day as the sun set. The crewman with the bell silenced his racket, and began to set the table with the rest of the group of pirates. Even Roberts helped distribute the pots. Fezzik brought the rest of the food from the galley, in addition to several benches.

When everything was settled, Roberts rose. "I'm sure all of you are curious as to what happened earlier this day, and so I will explain. The ship was the _Dauntless,_ pride of the royal fleet based in Port Royal." A rustle passed around the table. "The Commodore was only delivering Miss Elizabeth Swann to us, and meant no harm. In fact, I do believe he meant to wish us Godspeed and good fortune on our voyage, were he not held of such a strong disliking of pirates. The whole matter is rather personal, so it is from now on closed." He began to sit, but stood again. "The marvelous dinner was made by Lady Buttercup and various members of the crew in honor of Miss Swann's arrival."

A few scattered cheers were given for the food, and all began to eat.

Elizabeth, being quite famished, bothered with polite manners only for a moment after finding a spoon and knife. Spearing a dumpling out of a steaming pot, she attacked it ravenously, not expecting much in the way of taste. She was surprised.

"Will?"

"Mmm?"

"What is this?"

Will continued his dining. "I don't know. You should ask Buttercup."

Elizabeth searched the table for the only other woman present. "Buttercup?"

"Oh, yes?"

"What are these dumplings?"

Buttercup leaned over the pot to see. "I didn't make that. You should ask Nat."

"Who's that?"

"The one in the striped hat."

"Thank you."

Sighting a grey and red stocking cap, Elizabeth pulled up her skirts and walked down most of the length of the table. "Nat?"

The man looked up, showing a squinty, weathered face. "Who are you? Wait… Yeah, yer Miss Swann I s'pose. What do ye want?"

"Do you know what the dumplings over there are?"

"No idea. I don't think I actually cooked anything. Maybe Kigg knows."

Elizabeth gave up and returned to her soon-to-be husband. "I don't know what it is, Will."

"No one knows? Maybe Westley made it. He was in the galley for a while."

Elizabeth just sighed and stabbed the dumpling again.

"It tastes like it has fruit in it. I know Fezzik likes fruit."

"I really don't care enough to ask everybody on this ship."

"Alright." The blacksmith sighted a large skillet and scooped some of the viscous contents onto his nicked china plate. Tasting it, he liked his lips. "This one is good. Who made the stuff in the black iron frying pan?"

"I made that, Will."

"Really? You've only been here since this afternoon."

"I know, but I've never cooked before. Somebody called Rate showed me how to make that. Some kind of duff."

Will laughed. "You should try cooking again sometime, Miss Swann. This is delicious."

_

* * *

One week later…_

"White sails off the port bow!"

Westley rushed to the flank of the ship, and raised his spyglass to his eye.

"Roberts, it's a French merchant. Shall we take it?"

Roberts grinned. "Most certainly. It has been rather dull for a while now. Longer than is healthy for such men as ourselves. Put on full sail!"

The red flags were flying at the tip of both masts; the Dread Pirate Roberts almost never attacked under false colors. Already the French vessel had turned tail and was streaming at full speed away from the pirates, but the _Revenge_ was far swifter than the heavy galleon. The chase was over in under an hour. The French, knowing escape was beyond their reach, readied themselves for battle. Elizabeth and the pirates could see the strictly uniformed sailors, pulling pistols from their sides, in the dimming evening light.

"At the ready men! Steady! Pull around for a broadside!"

"Se tenir prêt! Se tenir!"

"Ready for the loot, boys! Aye!"

"Offrir de la résistance! S'opposer résolument a pirater!"

"Fire!"

"Tirer!"

Both ships let loose an explosion of cannon fire into the other. The twelve guns on the port side of the _Revenge_ ripped a hole in the other above waterline. The French volley shattered part of their deck, sending giant splinters blasting into the ranks of pirates.

Roberts cried out above the thunder of the guns, "Grappling hooks! Catch 'em in their rigging, board them!"

Every pirate was now letting out a scream, a roar of such strength that it was almost as powerful as the report of the guns. Elizabeth scampered over the deck of the _Revenge,_ a feat she could never have done in the dresses she usually had to wear (she had borrowed a pair of Buttercup's trousers), in search of a weapon. Suddenly she found herself face to face with the masked Spanish captain, stooping behind the rails of the ship, holding out a grappling hook to her. She hesitated, and reached out to it, but paused again. Another volley of lead from the hold of the French vessel was echoed by torturous screams from the ropes over the deck of the _Revenge_. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and shook her head. "There's work I should do here."

Roberts looked on her with… _With respect_, Elizabeth understood, _with respect_. He seemed satisfied, closing his mouth and tipping his head before leaping onto the rail. He and swung the hook he had offered her in swift circles by his side, before unleashing it.

The grappling hooks grabbed the rigging of the merchant, and nearly twenty pirates swung over the few feet of water that still separated the ships. The sailors fired their pistols and rifles at them as their mismatched array of boots and bare feet hit the deck, but it was too late. Most of the Frenchmen fell, by saber or pistol, in a matter of minutes.

Nobody had yet noticed the black ship on the horizon, barely visible through the evening air and cannon smoke, but approaching at an unearthly speed.

"Stop! Stop! Cesser!" Roberts yelled. "Tie them up. But let me have the captain." The pirates bound the crew of the merchant ship, as ordered. Fezzik the giant stepped across the gap between the two ships in one huge stride, put his great arms around the anchor, and tossed it over the side of the ship. Apparently he had already tethered the _Revenge_.

"Right, do any of you know English?" One crewman tried to raise his hand, but remembering himself a prisoner spoke up.

"Oui, I know the English."

"Tell your captain that I am the pirate Mundar, and to give us seventy percent of the treasure you carry. Seven parts out of ten parts of the treasure."

"Oui, I know _percent_." The sailor spoke in French to the captain that Roberts held tightly with a knife over his neck. The captain replied in a shaky voice.

"My Captain Beaumont say no. He say his job is to safe… to guard treasure. No."

"I'd say yes if I was yer captain, mate. Mr. Mundar here looks a bit vicious to me."

Every head turned.

A dripping, dirty, salty, gaudy, soggy, drunk _weirdo_ was swaying on the deck not five paces from Roberts and Captain Beaumont.

"Quoi!"

"Who are you?"

"Jack!" Will rushed out of the crowd of crewmen. "How did you get here, you pirate!"

"Hold on, I'm not finished. I be Captain Jack Sparrow, and as I was saying before the whelp showed up, Captain Mundar is a pirate. You don't say 'No' to pirates that could just kill all of ye and take _all_ yer loot if they so wanted." Jack blinked.

"Will, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for you! How did you get here?"

"I swam, whelp, are you daft?"

Will raised an eyebrow. "You swam. Jack, we're in the middle of the Caribbean. You couldn't have _possibly_ -"

"No, lad, my ship's right over there." The pirate waved an abstracted hand to one side. "I wanted to see what was goin' on."

"Jack, you are absolutely mad. But I need to talk to you."

Roberts cut in. "Captain Sparrow, Will, save your conversation. Frenchman, as Mr. Sparrow kindly pointed out, tell your captain that if he doesn't give us seventy percent of the treasure, we'll kill you."

Jack said again, "Letting you keep thirty percent is a fine deal, coming from a pirate."

"Exactly my point."

"Oui, oui, I'll tell him."

"Jack," Will said, and then continued in subdued tones, "Jack, as soon as this is over you and I have got to talk. At Port Royal… It's…"

"We'll talk after this is finished, so you said. Hold a bit, shall we?"

"Mon Captain Beaumont say you can have the treasure, my good friends. He say take what you wish."

"Thank your captain for his cooperation. Men, load the plunder into the _Revenge,_ and get us prepared to sail. Sparrow, I suggest you swim back to your ship and tell them your Mr. Turner is aboard; I assume you want to speak to him for a time."

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN

A lucky number for a crucial chapter. Elizabeth is aboard, Jack's showed up, you got a battle, a supper, several members of the crew now have names, and we now have a subplot: the search for the Mysterious Dumpling Chef!

I'm almost sorry to cut you off there, but the suspense is just _beautiful,_ isn't it?

Oh, and do you like the French? I just used a translator on Word, so most of it is probably wrong, but it was fun. Yay!


	8. Blood and Guts

Disclaimer: Someday, my friend… Someday, I will…

Thank you all for waiting so long for this chapter. I'm sure all the beautiful suspense, as my words were, has gotten more than a bit old.

I am still going to finish this, no worries. I know what's happening. Major plot explosion coming. Also, I've been studying up. A bit. For all of my purposes, Pirates took place just before 1660, the prime of the colony, as in 1662 an earthquake sank part of the town.

THANK YOU SO MUCH if you reviewed. I LOVE YOU ALL! DON'T FORGET ME!

erosgirl – You like Jack! YAY! I like Jack too! He did well. Wonderful job on his part.

Kelsey Estel – You've hit the nail on the head. It hurts – am I really THAT obvious? But you see, this is good pain. My story makes sense.

Governor Dorgan is what drove Will back into piracy. And that means that Dorgan must have given him a good reason to go and find our favorite crazy pirate. That scares me a little, and I'm the one writing it. But I do know exactly what Dorgan does, and you don't, so don't bother screaming. He isn't that scary anyway.

One last thing, not at all least: You reminded me of Fezzik. I almost forgot to put him in here as much as I should. I love Fezzik, how could I do that? And so, just for you, I have made plans to slip a little bit of our favorite giant into some of the chapters already posted, and also, of course, make an effort to give him a larger part. Fezzik is _not _going to end up like Chewbacca in Episode III. That was lame.

But anyway…

CHAPTER EIGHT

Elizabeth had never seen men so horribly wounded… or so forcedly cheerful. Some of the men she had dined with, worked with and laughed with were bleeding their life away on the deck of the Revenge, but still they joked and smiled (in a twisted way); propped against barrels, flat on their backs, clutching at stumps of fingers, they ignored the fact that they would likely die. That was no way to spend your last day – moaning about inconveniences like the next world.

Elizabeth hoped she could keep the pathetic men alive. Since the battle with the French merchant ship that afternoon, she had bandaged, scrubbed, shouted for this tool, that tool. So far, the only men that had died from their wounds had had legs shot off, giant splinters in their body, or some other grievous wound that all knew would kill them.

"It's the luck of the draw." Westley stood behind her, head bowed. Elizabeth turned from the body in front of her.

"Luck is no reason to die."

"They don't die from luck. The luck is only when it happens. They die because they came to this ship to die. Even if they never realized it, every one of them knew they would probably die. I knew, when I came. He knew," Westley said, pointing to John Kitts. The former Navy man was sneering as he held a rag to his bloody face. "He knew he would die whether he came aboard or not. You knew, better than most, that you would die on this ship. I think you were wrong about that."

Elizabeth said, "How do you know who is going to die?"

"I never know who will die. I only know who realizes that piracy is death."

"It isn't death for everyone."

"No, I suppose not. There is always a strong chance, however."

Elizabeth moved on to the next casualty, thinking how this conversation could hardly lift the crewmen's' spirits. "I think Jack didn't just get into piracy for fun."

"Sparrow? I agree with you there. There's more to that one than meets the eye – believe it or not."

Elizabeth couldn't keep from giving a short laugh. "A lot of him meets the eye."

* * *

Jack and Will met in the large cabin of the _Black Pearl._ Jack was brought up to date on the Turners' marriage, but grew impatient after Will began to describe the hat he had worn on the short honeymoon out to sea, courtesy Commodore Norrington. Prompted by this absurdity, he finally interrupted. 

"Well, it sounds to me as if things are going great. But you didn't have to come out and find me to tell me that."

"Well, there _is_ a problem."

"Tell us, then."

"Jack, you know that Governor Swann died six months ago. Elizabeth has apparently taken it quite well, although I really think that she hasn't gotten over it." Here, Will paused as if he didn't really want to approach the impending subject.

Jack nodded, and waved at him to continue. "Ever since the appointed officer from England arrived, it's been terrible for Elizabeth and me. Governor Dorgan is… a monster. He's put half the businesses in Port Royal into bankruptcy, because they didn't swear loyalty to him when he ordered them to. This man is asking for _tribute_, not just taxes, _personal tribute_, from the people – every man must pay for 'services rendered in the spirit of the promotion of the colony.' This is ridiculous! I don't even have a home to go back to; he's seized everything but the shop for himself, and I can't work because I'm broke."

The pirate intently fingered the nicked edge of the large table. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

"I need someone who can force him out of office, or possibly just sail to England and get the King to notice the situation." Will ran his fingers through his hair. "We need to do something, _something_ must be done about this and without a ship or a fighting crew, I don't know what."

Jack fondled one of the braids of his beard, rings clinking against his colored beads. "Alright. That makes a bit of sense. But, why didn't you just make your friend Mundar help you?"

Will swept his eyes away from Jack and around the cluttered cabin. "I don't trust him."

Jack smirked at that. "And you trust me, is that it? A blacksmith trusting the best pirate on the high seas? However sensible this may be, perhaps we do need to have a talk, Pirate to Pirate to Blacksmith."

The talk turned out not to be a small affair but a meeting of all the most important figures of each ship. From the _Pearl_ were Captain Jack Sparrow, Gibbs, and Anamaria; from the _Revenge_ came Captain Roberts, Westley, Will, and Elizabeth.

Everyone was introduced, it was explained that Roberts had only called himself Mundar because he didn't want to kill everyone, and the Turners told everyone of the need to eradicate the Governor.

Roberts clarified, "So you want to either attack Port Royal, or sail across the Atlantic to get King William and Queen Mary to rescind Dorgan's power."

"We'll need more than two ships to take the city. I could probably bring in two or three, but I doubt we could gather up an entire fleet." said Anamaria.

They were interrupted by a knock that rattled the dirty glass on the door; Fezzik and Buttercup came with vegetable stew and biscuits. It was delicious, for old shipboard rations, which came as no surprise for everyone but those from the _Pearl._ All halted the discussion, partly to enjoy the meal, and partly because Buttercup made an announcement.

"There's a ship off our port bow. The lookout says its pirates, with the usual skull and crossbones. Farm Boy, you had better go and see who it is…"

Westley smiled, blushed, and excused himself. Naturally, Sparrow followed him, shooting a glance at Buttercup and winking roguishly on his way out.

END OF CHAPTER EIGHT

Again, the most sincere apologies I can give, for anything short of murder, are in order. Therefore, I _promise_ to post at least once by next Saturday. I'll work like crazy. But don't kill me because I haven't posted. I'll be at my grandma's house, and of course that means a lot of time to do nothing – AKA, this.

If I ever write anything that sounds exactly like "rough, dirty men", review, tell me what I did, and I will eradicate it IMME - well, really, really really fast.


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